


The Ancients Don't Believe In Closet Doors

by sharkie335, wesleysgirl



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Bondage, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Rough Sex, Spanking, single tail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-20
Updated: 2012-09-20
Packaged: 2017-11-14 16:08:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/517150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkie335/pseuds/sharkie335, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesleysgirl/pseuds/wesleysgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Rodney are together, but are keeping secrets from each other. Then they discover an Ancient device that shows them what the other is hiding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ancients Don't Believe In Closet Doors

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the BDSM Big Bang. Please view the awesome artwork that antares04a made us! (NSFW)
> 
> [Pretty picture here!](http://antares04a.livejournal.com/58022.html)

John Sheppard turned another corner and swung the beam of his flashlight into the darkened room beyond. He was starting to get bored. Okay, he’d been firmly in bored territory for almost an hour, but it took so long to schlep out to the furthest recesses of Atlantis that he figured once he was there, he might as well do a thorough job of exploring. There was still a thread of hope that they might run across some kind of storeroom, or a science lab full of amazing Ancient technology.

Sure, the chances were slim, but the thought of it kept him going through the mind-crushing tedium.

“Anything?” Rodney’s voice asked, practically in his ear, and John jumped.

“Jesus, McKay!”

“Sorry! I thought you heard me.” Rodney pushed past him and looked around. “Ugh, nothing. Are you as bored as I am?”

“Probably. Maybe we should call it a day.” They’d been exploring for hours, and John was starting to think longingly of cafeteria food.

“We’ve only got two more rooms on this level, according to the schematics we found,” Rodney said. “Let’s hit those, strike out, and then we can go do something useful.”

John sighed, but he didn’t want to trek all the way back out here just for two rooms, especially since he really had his doubts about finding anything worthwhile. Gesturing for Rodney to follow, John made his way down the hall. They hadn’t bothered to power up this section of the city, so the abstract, surreal patterns on the walls were only visible when their flashlights played over them.

He wasn’t surprised when the next room was just as empty and dusty as the fifty before. They paced the walls, confirming that there weren’t any recessed panels or hidden terminals, before they moved on to the last room.

This door was set much further down the hall than all the rest. John idly wondered if maybe he could get Rodney to give him a blowjob as a reward for all the hard work he’d done finding nothing and then snorted softly. He couldn’t imagine Rodney kneeling on the dirty floor. On the other hand, the thought had a certain appeal to him.

Finally they reached the last entry. He was barely paying attention, distracted by the pretty images in his head, so Rodney was the first to spot the gleam of light bouncing off the glass-like stuff the Ancients used in their terminal screens. He made a low sound that John had learned was his “I’ve found something” noise.

They went into the room cautiously, looking for stasis pods, containment shields, anything that indicated that they were working on something dangerous in here. John shone his light around, noting that while the ceilings didn’t look unusually high, the room was huge in terms of square feet.

Rodney was busy hooking up his pad to the terminal, trying to see if there was enough power left to get a gauge for what they were looking at. He made a pleased noise as the terminal powered up, and immediately started entering commands on his tablet.

“So, what are we looking at?” John said. “Gym? Activities room? Place where they put on their circus?”

Rodney held up one hand in a wait gesture as the other tapped rapidly on the tablet. John waited impatiently for Rodney to finish. Finally, Rodney looked up and grinned. John waited for his announcement, expecting something big. 

“It’s a holographic imaging room.”

John blinked. “Holodeck? Cool!”

“Leave it to you to reduce it to the lowest possible denominator. It’s not a Star Trek gimmick, it’s --” 

Cutting him off, John said, “It’s a holodeck.”

“And you’re a moron who’s managed to latch onto one term in a million, congratulations.” Rodney sat down on the floor, hunching over his tablet. “Pity an advanced civilization like the Ancients couldn’t have designed something practical like chairs.”

John frowned. “There are chairs all over Atlantis. If there aren’t any here, there’s a reason.” There was a thin layer of dust on top of the terminal; not surprising. He brushed at it, then slapped his hands together and turned to Rodney. “Okay, come on, let’s fire this baby up.”

“It’s not that simple. Give me a minute here.” 

“A whole minute?” John asked, but Rodney had already cracked his knuckles and set to work. There was no point in trying to continue a conversation when Rodney was up to his elbows in the mess somebody else had left behind. 

Instead, John wandered the perimeter of the room, checking where the floor met the walls but not coming up with anything different or interesting. If Rodney couldn’t get this thing up and running, this long, boring day was going to end up a total wash. He walked all four walls and ended up back where Rodney was.

“Anything?” he asked.

Rodney shook his head. “Well, I can’t see anything wrong with it -- yet -- but don’t get your hopes up. Preliminary scans look promising. But that doesn’t necessarily mean anything --” Rodney was babbling, and John knew what that meant.

“Rodney. Take a breath before you hyperventilate, then tell me what’s going on.”

Rodney took a breath and then said, “I’m not sure what I’m reading here is accurate. I think that before we turn it on, I need to spend a little time looking it over -- we don’t need a repeat of the Ascension machine, right?”

Just the thought of something like that made John’s gut clench unpleasantly. “No, you’re right. So we’re going to call it a day?”

“Yeah. Let’s go get cleaned up and eat, and I’ll look over the schematics tonight. If I think we can safely power it up, we’ll give it a shot tomorrow.” Rodney sounded completely reasonable, and if it were anyone else, John wouldn’t have given it a second thought. But this was Rodney, and caution wasn’t something he was known for. There was something else going on.

“What aren’t you telling me?” he asked. 

“It’s probably nothing,” Rodney said. HIs voice, though, indicated that it was very definitely _something_. When John opened his mouth to argue, Rodney said firmly, “I’m not talking about this until I have a chance to look it over. Now, are you hungry or not?”

When Rodney used that tone of voice, there was no hope of talking him around, so John just said, “All right then. But if you decide it’s safe, we get first crack, right?”

Rodney’s voice was much warmer when he said, “Absolutely. Shall we go?”

“Yep.” John stepped back so that Rodney could lead the way, but he didn’t stop wondering what exactly this machine was supposed to do.

He also couldn’t help but watch Rodney’s ass moving under his pants as he walked. As far as John was concerned, Rodney’s ass was the best reason to walk behind anyone ever. It was solid, curved muscle, perfect against John’s palms when Rodney was driving into him, fucking him so good and hard that his teeth rattled.

Sure, it wasn’t the kind of thing he should be thinking about when he was on duty, but until the military developed mind reading technology...

“Hey,” John said, trying to sound casual. “This holodeck thing. It can’t...read minds. Can it?”

The only reason that John noticed the hitch in Rodney’s step was the fact that he was staring at Rodney’s ass. He might have ignored it, except that Rodney said, in an extremely casual way, “Well, there’s a mental component to all of the Ancient technology. You know that.”

John stopped dead. “Holy shit. Rodney, don’t tell me that we found a _mind-reading holodeck_.”

It took Rodney a few steps to realize that John wasn’t following any more. He turned around to face John, and said impatiently, “I said, I’m not sure how this works. Yes, the damn thing seems to interface fairly closely to what you’re thinking, but I’m not sure how, and I don’t want to test it until we’re fairly sure that we won’t cook our brains.” He sighed, and his voice was much less defensive when he said, “Now, come on, John. Lunch is waiting, and then we’ll figure it out, okay?”

He nodded, and Rodney started back up the hallway again. Holy shit. 

* * * * *

They kept off the topic over lunch. John wasn’t sure why Rodney wasn’t saying anything, but in his case, he didn’t want other people to home in on their discovery before they even got to play with it.

Instead, he listened as Rodney and Zelenka belittled the intelligence and education of the new science staff. Rodney seemed convinced that half of them had gotten their degrees out of Cracker Jack boxes. Zelenka was a little more generous and thought that they had bought them off the internet.

“I can’t believe this is how you guys talk about people you work with every day,” John said finally.

Zelenka had the good grace to look at least a little bit embarrassed, but Rodney rolled his eyes. “Please. I’m sure you’ve had similar conversations about soldiers or air force people you had to work with.”

“‘Air force people’?” John managed not to laugh. “Good thing you’re a civilian, McKay.”

“It doesn’t matter if he’s a civilian or not,” Zelenka put in. “He still enjoys ordering people around.”

John, who had just taken a sip from his cup, spluttered, and Zelenka helpfully patted him on the back. “Sorry,” John gasped. “Wrong pipe.”

He stayed quiet hoping that Rodney and Zelenka would go back to their conversation without his participation. They started talking about some physics theory instead, which was good enough for John. Over lunch in the cafeteria was pretty much the last place John wanted to talk about exactly how much Rodney seemed to get off on ordering him around in bed. It wasn’t something they’d talked about yet, but it was a conversation John was sure was coming.

When they’d finished lunch, John started to follow Rodney back to the lab. He really wanted to know what was the deal with their discovery this morning. Rodney’s glare warned him off, however, and so he veered off towards his own office. If he wasn’t going to get to play, he might as well get caught up on paperwork.

He managed to focus for the first half hour or so, dutifully signing the requisition paperwork that Lorne had put on his desk, but then his attention started to drift. He wondered what exactly Rodney had seen in the programming that had him so nervous. He could think of several options for a holodeck -- flight simulator, hand-to-hand practice, random story lines -- but none that required reading someone’s mind. 

He snorted. The Ancients were _weird_.

Returning his attention to stupid paperwork, he plowed through approving schedules and pay, and managed to distract himself enough that his radio startled him. “Colonel?” Rodney said, voice tinny and distant. “Where are you?”

“In my office,” he answered.

“Stay there,” Rodney said. “I’ll be there in five.”

Now John was really confused. Why couldn’t Rodney just tell him what he found over the radio? Then John got it - if Rodney broadcast that they’d found a holodeck over an open frequency, the line to try it out would be a mile long. Smart man.

Rodney burst into his office a few moments later. “Okay, so I’ve figured it out.”

John waved his hand, “And?”

“It was for relationship counseling.” 

“Uh. Huh?”

“Counseling,” Rodney repeated, like John was brain damaged. “For people who were having relationship issues.”

John was starting to _feel_ brain damaged. “And a holodeck would help them how? Are we talking about some Ancient version of Freud? Because I really think he had something with that whole pleasure principle thing.”

Rodney sighed. “The Ancients had a theory that relationships required a certain amount of open communication. I know, I know, it sounds like some kind of new age white light garbage, but they developed the holodeck so people could try out different scenarios, learn more about themselves and each other. I don’t know, apparently in their free time they decided to build Atlantis, so who can explain it?”

“Scenarios,” John said. “Like, situations that might make them argue, and then they could learn to work together?”

“I don’t know! It didn’t come with an instruction manual.” Rodney shifted and looked at him. “Anyway, I think it’s safe enough, but we should do some preliminary tests before we tell anyone about it. Think you can spare a few hours tonight?”

“Do you really think that we need,” he made an expression of disgust, “relationship counseling? I thought we were getting along pretty well.” Even if there were things that he was nervous about telling Rodney, his traitorous brain finished silently.

“Well, I don’t think we need it, no. But, we can’t make it do anything else until we understand what it’s already programmed to do, you know? And before you ask, no, I’m not going to assign this part to someone else to do.” Rodney looked nervous, though, in contradiction to the finality of his words. 

Huh. Maybe Rodney had things he wished he could tell John, too. “Okay,” John said. “But if you’re wrong and it fries our brains, I’m telling you I told you so.”

Rodney snorted. “I’m never wrong.” John didn’t even have to say anything. He just glared at Rodney until he sighed and said, “Okay, _rarely_ wrong.” John laughed, which in turn made Rodney relax, just enough to be noticeable. “Okay, from what I can figure out, the thing is designed to pull a scenario from the mind of whoever initializes it. So I thought, just to be fair, we would take turns? That way it doesn’t all come from one of us.”

“Seems like a good idea. Who goes first?” He fumbled at his pocket -- his lucky quarter should be there. “How about we flip a coin?”

Rodney squinched his face at the unscientific method, but, after examining both sides of the coin to make sure that it was a “normal” quarter, he agreed. John flipped it in the air, and Rodney called tails. The look of relief when it came up heads was a bit nerve-wracking, John had to admit to himself.

“So, after dinner?” Rodney said, already sidling towards the door, the coward.

“Uh, sure,” John said, wondering if he knew what he was getting himself into, and how he was supposed to pass the next three hours. “See you in the mess.”

* * * * *

John slouched a little lower in his chair and ate another bite of his dinner almost defiantly. He wasn’t hungry and he definitely wasn’t in the mood to eat, but damned if he was going to let Rodney see how nervous he was. Soon enough his head would be delved into, all his secrets given away, and then what was Rodney going to think?

Okay, it was possible he was having a panic attack.

He briefly considered making up some excuse and bailing on their plan, but chances were Rodney would find him and talk at him until he went quietly insane. Besides, things with Rodney were good. Better than good, really, and he wanted them to stay that way. Heading for the hills would just mess things up. 

“Right,” Rodney said, pushing back his chair. “While the rest of you are enjoying your leisure time, I’ve got to get back to work. Sheppard?”

“Coming,” John said.

Rodney waited until they were a couple of minutes into their long walk before saying, “Am I just imagining it, or are you not into this?”

John sighed. “It’s not that.”

“What, then?”

He wondered how he could explain this in a way that would _not_ make him look like a coward to Rodney, or make him wonder what the hell he saw in John. “It’s not that I don’t want to do this, Rodney. I’m just...”

“Just what?” Rodney demanded. “Afraid that something is going to get out that you don’t want me to know? Like what? I mean, if it’s that big, maybe we should talk about it before we go in there. Or maybe I should do some more research to see if there’s a way for you to control what it shows me, but I think that that would just undercut its whole purpose, so I bet that you can’t.”

John thought about it for a second. Thought about just spilling it all, telling Rodney everything there was to know about him, so that the damn holodeck wouldn’t have anything to work with. No. Not a chance in hell could he just _say_ it.

Instead, he said, “I want a promise.”

“What kind of promise?” Rodney asked suspiciously.

“That if this is as uncomfortable as I suspect it might be, you won’t back down when it’s _your_ turn. Turnabout is fair play, right?”

“Like I’d do that,” Rodney scoffed, but John noticed he wasn’t meeting John’s eyes.

“You would in a New York minute, Rodney, and don’t even deny it. Promise me, or we’ll just let this thing continue to gather dust.”

Rodney looked him straight on. “I promise. I wouldn’t do that, John, really.”

“Okay.” He didn’t want to dwell on it anymore, so he changed the subject. “What is going on in the labs these days, anyway? I saw Radek at dinner and it looked like he’d gotten the shock of his life -- his hair was standing straight up.”

Rodney obviously knew what he was doing, but in an amazing act of generosity -- for Rodney -- he didn’t say anything about it. He just described the utter incompetence of one of the new scientists, who was going back through the wormhole at the next opportunity, apparently.

The conversation carried them back to the dusty hall, but this time the lights came up as they walked down it. John glanced at Rodney, who said, “Well, we’re going to need power for this thing anyway, and if I have to supply it to that, I might as well give us some light too.”

They finally reached the doorway, and John hesitated just outside. Somehow he wasn’t really surprised when Rodney touched his shoulder and said, “You can back out, you know. I won’t even tease you.” John turned to look at him, unbelieving, and Rodney smirked. “Much.”

“Let’s do this thing,” John said, going through the door and straight to the terminal. “So, what, I just tell it to turn on?”

“That’s all it’s supposed to take, yes.”

John put his hand on the screen, closed his eyes, and thought, _Okay, here we go_. When he opened his eyes, he recognized the location immediately - the Eagle, on the seedier side of San Francisco. Damn.

“Interesting,” Rodney said, hands on his hips as he looked around. “Um. What is it?”

“It’s a bar.” John knew it was stupid to hope that would be enough to satisfy Rodney. 

“Oh, really? Because the _bar_ didn’t tell me that.” If John had a nickel for every time Rodney rolled his eyes, he’d have had even more money he couldn’t spend in the Pegasus Galaxy than he already did.

There were a few people scattered around. It looked like the Eagle early on a Saturday night, before the place really got jumping. All John could think was even his own subconscious didn’t want to scare off Rodney with how the place would have looked later in the evening.

He looked towards the bar, and there were two beer glasses sweating on the scarred wood. Grabbing them, he handed one to Rodney. “Probably can’t get drunk off of it, but what the hell,” John muttered.

Rodney didn’t say anything, though he took the glass. He just pointedly stared at John.

John finally said, just loud enough to be heard over the music, “It’s the Eagle, a club I used to hit in San Francisco, when I was in college.”

“Hm.” Rodney sipped the beer and made a face. No surprise that he wouldn’t like it -- Canadian beer was probably different in some subtle way that Rodney would be happy to explain in excruciating detail if John asked, which he wouldn’t. “A gay club?”

Following Rodney’s gaze, John focused on two men sitting across the room. They were making out, lots of hand action. “Pretty much.” The Eagle had been so much more than just a gay club.

He could remember one particularly hot evening that occasionally featured in his dreams. He’d been making eyes at a guy wearing leather for at least half an hour, and the guy had been eating it up but not making a move. John had turned his attention to someone else, and a minute later felt a hand gripping the back of his neck. Not hard, not with enough force to be threatening. More like a promise.

They’d gone into the men’s room and John had dropped to his knees and blown the guy, hard and fast, the man’s rough hand tangled in his hair. The guy’s come had been bitter and the taste of it had lingered in the back of John’s throat for hours afterward.

Somehow, John didn’t jump when he saw the guy appear out of the corner of his eye. He looked the same as John remembered him, not that that was a surprise -- tight leather pants, black mesh shirt, come-hither eyes. John wondered how he’d react if the guy grabbed him these days. He’d been hot, but John really just wanted Rodney. Well, it would be better if Rodney was about twice as aggressive in the bedroom, but still, Rodney.

Rodney made a small sound, and John looked around. Now that _was_ a surprise. He was looking at a carbon copy of his twenty-year-old self, making moon eyes at the guy in leather.

“Jesus, John, was that you?” Rodney said, and John realized that there was more than a little lust in his gaze. 

“Um, yeah.” As John watched, younger-him looked pointedly away from the leather guy, who promptly got up, came over, and placed his hand on the other John’s neck. 

John _remembered_ that feeling, of being willing to do absolutely anything that the hot guy in leather had asked for. As the two of them stood and started to move away from the bar, John stood up to follow them. Rodney hesitated, and John looked at him and said, “Well? Don’t you want to see what happens?”

“I don’t know,” Rodney said. “Do I?” He looked uncertain, worried, and it was definitely a look John would have preferred not to see on Rodney’s face.

He went over to Rodney and kissed him, just a quick kiss. “If you don’t, you’ll always wonder.” It wasn’t so much that he wanted Rodney to see. Well, part of him did, because if they were going to continue whatever this was between them, he needed to know. John just hadn’t thought about telling -- or showing -- him quite so soon. Now they were here. This was his chance for Rodney to know without him having to put it into words, and in some ways that made it easier.

They went to the men’s room. Younger John was already on his knees, the other guy’s leather pants peeled back to reveal his cock. It was an impressive cock, long and rough-looking like the guy himself, the kind of cock that would fuck without any finesse or care for its partner’s pleasure. It was a big, hard cock that wanted to get off, and John had the distinct impression now -- though he hadn’t all those years ago -- that it had a mind of its own.

“Did you like this?” Rodney murmured, almost in his ear. Rodney was standing close behind him, almost touching, and when John glanced over his shoulder Rodney’s eyes were wide, fascinated.

“What do you think?” It came out sounding more rude than John had meant it to. He tried again. “Yeah. I didn’t know him.” He meant a lot in those few words. He hadn’t known the guy, hadn’t wanted to, but he’d been eager enough to blow him. He’d needed to feel a hard cock thrusting to the back of his throat, almost choking him.

Younger John went down eagerly, almost too eagerly, as he practically choked himself on the cock in front of him. Leather guy’s hand tangled in his hair, keeping him from backing off easily. From the look on Younger John’s face, that was just fine. He looked blissed out as the bigger man fucked his face carelessly.

Oh God. John _remembered_ that feeling, of being on his knees for someone else, someone to be used for another person’s pleasure. He _missed_ it.

Rodney stroked a hand up John’s arm, gripping his bicep firmly. John took advantage of the implicit invitation to lean into Rodney’s bulk, feeling Rodney’s heat all along his back. Rodney didn’t say anything, though, and they watched in silence as leather guy pushed down Younger John’s throat, coming with a grunt.

When he turned away from Younger John, doing up his pants and walking away without a word, Rodney made a sound of surprise. “What? He didn’t even get you off?”

“It wasn’t what I was there for, Rodney. I can get myself off just fine. I just -- “

When Rodney tried to turn John around so that he was facing him, John resisted, staring at the younger version of himself who was just starting to climb to his feet. Even through the heavy jeans he was wearing, they could see his erection. “It was about the feeling I got, not about getting off,” he said quietly.

He hadn’t come, he remembered. He’d gone home and gone to bed still hard, dreamed about being held down, his face pressed against a tabletop as a stranger fucked him from behind. When he’d woken up, he was still shuddering and coming, humping the mattress, sweaty and sticky and sick with guilt over being so screwed up.

“Is that what you want?” Rodney asked quietly, and in answer John sank down to his knees just like he’d done when he was younger, right in this bathroom. He rubbed his cheek against the front of Rodney’s pants, relieved to find Rodney hard. 

“I want this,” John whispered. “I -- want you to fuck me like this.” He glanced up, afraid of what he might see on Rodney’s face. 

Rodney looked slightly puzzled, but not disgusted. Thank God. “Really?”

John’s stomach dropped. “Never mind. It’s fine. It’s not --” He started to get up, but Rodney’s hand suddenly clamped onto his shoulder and held him down. 

“Shut up,” Rodney said. His voice was cold, as cold as John had ever heard it, and he was undoing the front of his pants. “I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to come in your mouth, and you’re going to take it.”

It may have been undignified, but John fucking _whimpered_. He didn’t even care that he sounded needy. All he cared about was the cock that was being revealed inches in front of his face, so close he could smell it. _Rodney’s_ cock. God.

As soon as Rodney had his cock out, John lunged forward, intending to suck it down. Except that Rodney held him back, just out of reach. “Open your mouth,” he ordered, his other hand wrapping around the base of his cock. John whimpered again, but did as he was told. Rodney said, “Don’t move,” and released his grip on his shoulder, moving his hand to John’s hair, where he gripped it tight.

Pinpricks of pain in his scalp made John blink furiously, but before he could react more than that, Rodney was painting John’s lips with the tip of his cock, teasing John with what he wanted and needed so close. John couldn’t move forward, but he still tried, and when that failed, he licked over the head of Rodney’s cock, tasting the salt-bitter of Rodney’s precome.

Finally, Rodney started to slide his cock into John’s mouth slowly, letting the head of his cock rub over John’s hard palate and nudge into the back of his throat. John groaned -- God, this felt so good -- and swallowed against the hard length. He let his eyes close, and his throat muscles relax. Rodney was in charge and could do whatever he wanted. John was good with that.

Rodney made a soft sound, and started to speed up a little, going harder and deeper with each stroke. John choked a little when he got really deep, but Rodney didn’t pause, didn’t pull back. In fact, he held John there for a moment, as John fought his body’s desire to pull away. 

He wanted to beg for more, and at the same time he was grateful that he couldn’t. He didn’t want Rodney to realize just how much he wanted to be like this all the time. Thankfully, all Rodney seemed to need at the moment was a warm, willing mouth, which John was all too happy to provide.

Rodney’s cock swelled a little more as he shoved as far down John’s throat as he could get. He was so deep that John could barely taste it as he came, and it was all he could do not to choke. When Rodney finally pulled back, letting go of his iron grip in John’s hair, he coughed, hard, trying to clear his airway. When he could finally talk, he looked up at Rodney and said, “Thank you.”

Rodney blinked, then tugged him upright and kissed him, cradling the back of John’s skull gently. He tilted John’s head to a better angle and delved into his mouth as avidly as if he hadn’t just come, like they were just getting started. John didn’t know if Rodney could stay hard -- he knew _he_ wouldn’t be able to if their places were reversed. Rodney pulled back with John’s face between his hands. “Thank you? Are you for real? What the hell did you do with John Sheppard?”

“I’m right here,” John said, looking into Rodney’s sharp eyes. “This is me.”

Rodney didn’t say anything for a long moment. Instead he studied John’s face, and John had a sharp moment of pity for electrons under a microscope. He wanted to hold his breath, freeze, as if he could change the outcome of whatever Rodney was seeing that way, but he forced himself to breathe normally, if a little loudly.

Finally, Rodney smiled crookedly and leaned forward. This kiss was just as full of passion, but it was somehow sweeter as well. When it ended, Rodney murmured in his ear, “What would you like?”

With that, John really realized that they were still in the Eagle’s bathroom, and while it was a hologram, he didn’t really want to get off here anymore than he had when he was twenty-one. “Take me home,” he said softly. 

Rodney brushed a kiss over John’s cheek and didn’t question why John wasn’t demanding something from Rodney. Instead, he simply said, “Think off, John.”

* * * * *

“Now you’re just stalling,” John said.

Rodney did his best to keep from reacting. “No, I need to finish analyzing the stuff from last night before we go further.”

“ _Stalllllling_ ,” John sing-songed. 

It made Rodney want to slap him; finding out that there were possibilities that Rodney had never even considered as likely previously had kept him awake most of the night. Rodney liked sleep. Rodney _needed_ sleep. Spending a couple of hours staring at the ceiling because he’d learned something new about John hadn’t resulted in a good mood this morning.

He glanced up at John, who was sitting on the floor against the wall. “Okay, fine. I’m ready.”

“Really?” John got up and dusted off his hands. “I thought I was gonna be waiting all night.”

“Okay, fine, I admit I might be a little...” 

“Chicken?” John supplied with a grin.

Rodney turned and glared at him. “No! I’m not chicken. Just a little nervous is all.”

John smirked at him. “Look, Rodney, I bet that machine won’t find anything as embarrassing as what it showed you last night.”

Rodney looked away, unable to meet John’s eyes. His stomach was twisting in knots at what he suspected the holodeck was going to show, but he didn’t want John to know that. He only realized that John had stopped walking when he grabbed Rodney’s arm, pulling him to a stop as well. 

“Look, Rodney,” John said, and then paused. “I promise, unless it shows me that you like to do something like fuck a sheep, we’re going to be okay. Just relax, would you?”

Offended, Rodney glared at him. “I do _not_ fuck sheep. That would be Carson.”

John laughed and tugged on his arm, getting them moving again. He brought up Dr. Kelly’s completely mistaken theories on how drones actually worked, and Rodney relaxed marginally. He knew that John was trying to give him something else to think about again, but this time he really needed it, so he started ranting about how Kelly was wrong, wrong, wrong.

That rant brought them right up to the door of the holodeck. “Ready?” John said, hand on Rodney’s shoulder.

Rodney took a deep breath and nodded. They crossed the room to the terminal, and Rodney touched the screen and said, “On.”

The room changed in a flash, so quickly that if Rodney had blinked he would have missed it. They were standing in a laboratory, ultra high tech. It was actually exactly the sort of lab he’d design for himself, with a dozen high-end computers and even a super expensive coffee machine that probably only existed in his dreams. Which, come to think of it, was what this was.

Over at the well-designed computer terminal, a somewhat slimmer version of Rodney (and okay, maybe a little bit younger, too, because he had more hair) was working feverishly. There were three coffee cups at his elbow. While they watched, slimmer Rodney picked up one cup without paying attention, tried to drink from it, frowned, and swapped it for one that apparently actually contained coffee. Then slimmer Rodney dropped it -- on the floor, sacrilege -- and put his hand over his mouth, staring at the computer screen.

John turned to Rodney and raised an eyebrow.

“Grand Theory of Everything,” Rodney muttered, and John grinned.

“This is what you were worried about? You think I didn’t realize the full extent of your ego?” John patted him on the shoulder. 

“Yeah, well, you haven’t seen everything yet.”

They watched in silence as several other scientists crowded around, pointing at the screen and babbling at each other and other Rodney gloated, but when nothing seemed to really come of it, John’s face turned pissy. “Really, Rodney? _This_ is what you show me?” he said, obviously upset.

“What? It’s not like I chose what the damn thing picked out of my head!” Rodney understood where John was coming from, he really did. If all John had shown him was the first time he’d flown or something, they wouldn’t be in this position now. Rodney could have just kept hiding.

The problem was he wasn’t sure how to change it. He wanted to say as much, but the glare on John’s face made it impossible. So he closed his eyes, took a deep breath and focused. _Show him what he actually needs to know_ he thought.

Next to him, John gasped, and a little unwillingly, Rodney opened his eyes. He wasn’t really surprised to find them in the playroom he’d last used. There were other people in the room, but they were blurry, indistinct, which made sense. All of Rodney’s attention at the time had been entirely on his partner, Terry Nichols, who was currently tied to a Saint Andrew’s cross. The red marks and faint welts on his ass and back showed that he’d been there a while.

Movement drew Rodney’s attention, and he saw his doppelgänger drawing up the single tail whip in his hand. Unlike the other John, this Rodney wasn’t _too_ much younger than Rodney was now - this particular scene had happened the night before they left Colorado for Atlantis the first time. 

He was half expecting John to pull away, to withdraw, so when he grabbed Rodney’s hand, he started in surprise. Turning slightly, he saw that John was breathing shallowly, his focus completely on the couple in front of them. A flicker of motion brought his attention back, and he watched as the whip flicked out, striking Terry right where Rodney had planned. The harsh cry that it got did funny things to Rodney’s insides. He remembered that feeling. He missed it.

John’s hand tightened on his as they watched. It was odd, seeing himself from the outside as a scene he could recall in vivid detail played out before them. He tried not to spend too much time imagining what he looked like, and now it didn’t matter -- he was more interested in what he was doing, in the snap of the whip and Terry’s whimpers of pain. 

When Terry started to beg in a broken, hoarse whisper, John turned to him. “This?” he asked. “This is what you were so afraid for me to see?”

“It’s complicated,” Rodney said.

“It’s always complicated. What we did last night was complicated.” John ran a hand through his ridiculous hair, making it stick up even more than usual. “Guess that’s why they built this place.”

Rodney sighed. “Somehow, I doubt this is the kind of thing they were thinking of.”

In the playroom, Terry made a different, higher-pitched cry. The other Rodney had started to fuck him. He could remember what it had been like -- how tight Terry was, how the little sounds of pain he’d made had spurred Rodney on. He was hard now, inside his pants, and without thinking too much about it he reached for the front of John’s BDUs. John was hard, too.

“You like that?” John asked.

“Yeah. I did. I do.” It felt surprisingly okay to say it out loud. Not that he hadn’t had willing partners in the past, and he’d already learned that apparently John liked it rougher than he’d thought. 

“Do you...” John swallowed and stepped closer, right up in Rodney’s face. “Do you want to do that with me?”

Rodney hesitated. The words _hell, yes_ were right there on the tip of his tongue. He knew, he just knew that if he said yes without qualifying it, John would agree. And while he was fairly certain that he could make the physical aspects good for John, what they’d seen so far wasn’t quite the whole thing. And if he was honest with himself, or more importantly, honest with John, the whole thing was what he actually wanted.

The sounds from the cross were reaching a fever pitch. Rodney remembered what would happen in the next few minutes as clearly as if they had happened the night before. So instead of answering directly, he pointed back at the couple. “Watch for five more minutes and then tell me if it’s something you’re interested in trying, okay?”

John blinked, obviously confused, and then nodded, turning back to face Terry and other-Rodney. Terry was begging and writhing as much as he could in his bonds, other-Rodney’s hands tight on his hips as his hips pistoned in and out, fast and hard.

Suddenly, Terry’s words became as clear as if he was speaking into a microphone. Perhaps the room saw that it was important that John hear this and understand it. “Please, sir. Please! Sir, I need to come. Please let me come, sir?”

Other-Rodney said, “No, not until I do, boy. And if you ask again, not at all tonight.” His voice wasn’t cold, though. He was clearly on the edge as well.

Terry’s whimper was clear and it was obvious that he was pretty damn desperate, but he stopped begging. For a long second, the only sounds was the _slap_ of skin against skin, and Terry’s soft, inarticulate cries.

When other-Rodney started to come, he said, “Okay, boy, come now if you can.” 

Terry gasped loudly, and then panted for a moment. He hadn’t even gotten his breathing back under control before he was saying, “Thank you, sir. Oh, thank you so much.”

Other-Rodney rubbed his hand up and down Terry’s back for a moment, as if to calm him, and then slowly pulled out. He disposed quickly of the condom, and then started to unfasten Terry from the cross.

When he’d undone the last wrist buckle, Terry fell to his knees. John started, as if to go help him up, and Rodney stopped him with a hand to his arm. Terry was leaning against other-Rodney’s legs, and he was looking up at him with a look of adoration. “Thank you, sir,” he whispered, but somehow they could hear it clearly.

“You’re welcome, boy,” Other-Rodney said, and then they, along with the vague shapes of other people, faded away, leaving just the room and the cross. Rodney stared at it, not wanting to see if there was revulsion on John’s face, and maybe a bit afraid to see interest.

John reached out and touched Rodney’s face in a gentle caress. “You think I’ll say no to that?” He smiled. “Guess we still have a lot to learn about each other. I -- haven’t done that before, but...”

“You would?” Rodney sounded too eager and he knew it. “Look, John... it’s... God, I don’t know how to say this.”

“Try.”

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate you being willing,” Rodney said. “I do. But I don’t think -- and I know I’m not an expert -- that it would be the same if you... weren’t into it.”

John scratched the back of his neck and shifted his weight. It was the kind of thing that screamed ‘John Sheppard’ -- Rodney would have recognized it in a dark room -- and in that moment he turned back into the man Rodney knew. The one he’d fallen for. “Don’t see how we’ll know until we give it a shot, right?”

Rodney stepped closer and snagged his fingers into the front of John’s BDUs. “You’d do that?” _For me_ remained unspoken, but John obviously heard it anyway.

“I’d do a hell of a lot more for you,” he said.

Rodney’s mouth went dry as he tried to process John’s words. This was more than he’d expected. For John, that was practically an “I love you,” complete with hearts and flowers. “I -- me, too,” he finally squeaked out.

John grinned at him, open and happy, as if he’d decoded the meaning of Rodney’s words as well. Then he glanced around the room a little. “Um, so what would you like to do?” The “to me” was unspoken, but unmistakably there. 

He didn’t even bother to look around. There was nothing in this room that he wanted to try for John’s first taste of this. Instead, he stepped closer and whispered in John’s ear, “Just watch.”

Ancient technology bent to John’s will with barely any effort. For Rodney, it was more work, but he thought it would be so worth it. Closing his eyes, he thought very clearly of what he wanted.

When John made a noise of surprise, he knew that he’d succeeded. Opening his eyes, he was gratified to see a large, open, sunlit room. Under the largest of the windows, there was a huge bed, one large enough that they wouldn’t have to worry about falling out of. There was a discreet chest on one side of the bed.

He backed up a little, so that he could get a better look at John and saw that his eyes were wide, but that he didn’t look particularly nervous. In fact, he seemed substantially more relaxed here than he’d been in the club. Good.

“Take off your clothes, boy,” he said. He was proud that his voice didn’t shake, though he didn’t feel as confident as he usually did. That was because he actually gave a damn about John. He wanted to make this good.

John’s gaze swung to his face for a moment before he nodded and started to strip off. Rodney watched eagerly as John’s body came into view. This was nothing new -- he loved watching John undress.

When John was finally naked, he stepped forward and ran his hand down John’s back to his ass, which he cupped firmly. “You know what I’ve always wanted to do?” he asked conversationally.

“What?” John asked breathlessly.

“I’ve always wanted to spank you.”

God, to see the flush of pink come into John’s cheeks -- it was enough to drive a man crazy. Sometimes when Rodney was with John that was exactly how he felt: crazy. Now, though, he felt sane. Sane and in control, and John was going to let him do whatever he wanted. 

Naked, John stood with his hands at his sides and waited, not saying anything.

“I’d thought about having you over my lap,” Rodney mused. “But I think I’ll save that for another time. Tonight, I want you on your stomach on the bed.” He’d hold onto the dream of having John’s solid weight across his thighs, hoard it for another time. 

John climbed onto the bed and Rodney went to the chest and opened it. Inside was a collection of toys based on things Rodney had enjoyed in the past. Handcuffs, a riding crop, a whip. A huge dildo that Rodney wouldn’t be using on John any time soon without a hell of a lot of preparation -- pain was fun, but bowel perforations were definitely not. But tonight Rodney wanted to strike John with his own hand until it tingled and stung, until John’s ass was bright red and hot and throbbing.

He picked up some silk scarves and stepped to the head of the bed, reaching for John’s wrist. It jerked away at his touch. “Let me,” Rodney said firmly, and John didn’t resist again when his wrists were bound tightly to the rails of the headboard.

Sitting down -- he really should have thought this out better -- he ran a hand along John’s back, watching John’s spine flex as he lifted his ass to meet Rodney’s caress. 

“Slut.” Rodney let his voice stay cold. “You love being fucked, don’t you?”

“Yes,” John whispered, then added, “Sir.”

Hearing that word just ratcheted up the heat in the room. God. He lifted his hand, and brought it down on John’s ass. It wasn’t hard, just enough to give a smacking sound, but John gasped anyway. 

He paused for a second, waiting for John to say stop, but when he didn’t, Rodney slapped his ass again, just a little harder. In response, John lifted his hips. It was only a tiny bit, but it was enough to make Rodney think that he might really like this.

A little bit of the tension that had been riding in Rodney’s shoulders lifted, and he spanked John a couple of times in quick succession before pausing again. “Do you like this, boy?” he asked. His voice was steady thankfully, not betraying the fact that his heart was in his throat. He wanted him to like it, so much.

“So far,” John said, a little bit of humor laced in his voice. “More?”

“Sir,” Rodney’s voice was firm.

John twisted, trying to see Rodney over his shoulder. “What?” 

“You call me sir,” Rodney said again. “When we do this, I mean.”

John blinked at him for a moment, and then his face cleared as he understood. “More, _sir_?” he said.

Rodney strained to hear any sarcasm or teasing in John’s voice, but if it was there, it was subtle. He decided that he just wasn’t going to worry about it. Instead, he slapped John’s ass, harder than he had previously, leaving a clear red handprint. John grunted, and he turned back around so that he wasn’t twisted so painfully. Rodney gave him a second to get settled again and then started spanking him in earnest.

His ass was starting to get hot, red spread pretty evenly along both cheeks, when John gasped out the word, “Stop.” Instantly, Rodney stopped, running his hand along John’s back, trying to be soothing.

“What, John?” he asked. He wasn’t going to call him boy, not if John was having second thoughts.

“Need to shift,” John said, and then he was moving, getting up on his knees, his face pressed into the pillow. “Sir.”

Rodney swallowed with a throat gone painfully dry. This was the hottest thing he’d ever seen. Yeah, he’d done kinkier things than a spanking, but this was _John_. On his _knees_. Offering up his ass for more spanking.

He got to his own knees, his movements made clumsy with lust, and knelt between John’s calves. Rubbing his hands over John’s ass, he asked, “Ready for more, boy?”

“Please,” John whispered, and that was all Rodney needed. They should have a safe word, they should have talked more, but Rodney was so hard he thought he might die and he needed the heat radiating off John’s ass.

He found a rhythm, each flat blow making John twitch and gasp. John’s ass was starting to turn from bright red to a darker red, the kind that meant he’d have bruises when this was over, and that just made Rodney want to hit him again. His own hand hurt from the force of the spanking. He didn’t care. He’d never felt this desperate.

Rodney hit John again, even harder than he had been, and this time John whimpered. “Good,” Rodney said. “That’s what I want. I want to hear you.” 

Another loud blow, and another whimper. Rodney was overcome by the need to feel the heat in John’s skin with something other than his hand, and bent to press his lips to it. God, John was hot, on fire. Imagine what he’d be like with something really intense. Rodney could picture the stripes a crop would leave on John’s ass, and suddenly the crop was in his hand. 

Right. Holodeck.

Slowly, Rodney traced the end of the crop along John’s spine from between his shoulder blades toward his ass. John was breathing heavily and he flexed beneath the touch. “I’m going to hit you with this now,” Rodney said, letting the tip of it glide down and over John’s hole. “Three times.”

“Oh, God,” John said, and then he shifted, deepening the bend of his spine, raising his ass even further. “Please, sir.”

In order to get room to swing the crop, Rodney had to back up a little, and even with that the angle was terrible. It didn’t matter, though, because when the crop came down, John cried out, _loudly_. Rodney paused, waiting for John to say stop, but it didn’t come, and so the crop came down again, and the third time. 

He threw the crop across the room, shifting forward and pressing his cloth-covered cock against the heat of John’s burning ass. “I’ve got to be in your ass, boy,” he said, and his voice was no longer controlled, not that he cared. With one hand he ripped open his fly, as he willed lube to appear in his other hand. 

Slicking up his cock was by necessity fast and messy. There was no way he could go any slower. As soon as he was wet enough not to damage John, he dropped the tube on the bed. Grabbing John’s cheeks, he spread them wide, loving the way it made John whimper in pleasure.

Rodney slid his lube-slick thumbs toward John’s hole, teased at it as John shivered and moaned. He wanted to finger fuck John like this until John came all over the bed, ass contracting around Rodney’s fingers, but it would have to wait. Rodney grasped his cock with one shaking hand and rubbed the head of it against John’s asshole, then shoved his hips forward abruptly, forcing himself into John’s body.

“God,” Rodney gasped. He could feel the heat of John’s ass against his lower belly, and the thing he needed to click inside his head *clicked* -- he knew there was a head space that subs got into, and he’d wondered before why people didn’t talk more about the Dom equivalent. Once he was there, he could fuck for an hour before he came. He didn’t know how it worked, but he knew it did.

Grabbing hold of John’s hips, Rodney found a rhythm, a steady, constant thrusting. John’s head dropped down onto the mattress and he groaned. The soft, hot cling of his ass around Rodney’s cock was perfect, the rest of his body strung tight and trembling like he was trying not to come. 

“Don’t even think about it,” Rodney ordered. He slapped John’s ass to distract him, and John sobbed.

“Please. Please.”

“Not until I tell you.”

John whimpered. “Can’t. Need to --”

“I don’t care _what_ you need.” Rodney punctuated this with a particularly rough thrust, then pushed John forward with his cock still inside John’s ass until John twisted against the scarves binding his wrists and straightened up. With John upright on his knees, it was easier to fuck him at the angle Rodney preferred.

“Oh God, oh God,” John was sobbing with every breath, clearly as lost in the moment as Rodney was. He tightened his hands on John’s hips, knowing he was probably leaving more bruises and not really caring right then. All he cared about was the sounds that John was making, the way he was squirming and pushing back into Rodney.

He had to admit that he was kind of vaguely impressed that John had lasted this long, since he had no practice in holding back his orgasm. So he really wasn’t surprised when John cried out, long and loud, and his ass clenched down tight. Rodney didn’t even slow down, still pushing in hard and rough, fucking John right through his orgasm. He was riding the edge of coming, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever get this again, and he didn’t want it to end.

John was still making delicious whimpering sounds of pleasure, and that more than anything broke Rodney’s remaining control. Thrusting in as hard as he could, he froze as he came harder than he had in a long time. 

He shuddered through aftershocks that seemed to last an eternity, maybe longer, and then slowly and carefully pulled out. With a thought, he banished the silk ties, and pulled a limp and pliant John into his arms. “Good boy,” he said softly, running a hand through John’s sweaty hair.

“I came before you told me to,” John said softly.

“I know, but you’ll get better,” Rodney said confidently. “For a first time, that was... fucking amazing.”

“Yeah?” John didn’t sound convinced, but he turned in Rodney’s arms and nuzzled at his jaw, kissed him. His skin was slick with sweat and he was trembling.

The fact that Rodney had been the one to reduce John Sheppard to this quivering, exhausted mess made Rodney feel like a god. It was one of his favorite things about sex -- about being good at sex. But it wasn’t just the sex, was it?

He slid a hand between John’s legs and fondled John’s sticky, softening cock. John whimpered but didn’t otherwise protest or pull away. They stayed there, recovering, until Rodney had to shift John’s weight.

“We should get out of here,” John said reluctantly. “You have that meeting in the morning.”

Rodney wasn’t sure how he felt that John was keeping track of his schedule. “One more minute.” He wasn’t ready to give this up, not yet.

“Okay.” At least John didn’t seem to feel like arguing.

Eventually, though, even the holodeck bed wasn’t all that comfortable for half-kneeling with another man in his lap. Rodney had to move. “Careful,” he warned as he eased John off him. “Unless this program is a hell of a lot better than I think, you’re going to be pretty sore for the next day or two.”

John grunted in reply and got up, bending slowly to collect his clothes and moving like an old man as he pulled them on. Rodney felt almost sad as John’s pants slid up to cover his red, bruised ass. Next time, he promised himself, they’d lie in bed so he could touch John afterwards as much as he wanted.

The way that John wasn’t meeting his eyes made him revise that thought. If there was a next time. 

“Are we okay?” Rodney asked.

“What? Yeah. Of course. Why wouldn’t we be?” John slid his hands into his pockets and winced as the movement stretched his shoulders. 

“Maybe because you’re freaking out?” Rodney suggested. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t known this was a possibility.

“I’m not,” John said flatly, and looked at him. “We’re fine. I’ve gotta go.” 

And before Rodney could finish getting dressed and follow him, he was gone.

* * * * *

John was an expert at avoiding things he wanted to avoid. It was a skill he’d honed over many years and surprisingly there’d never been a time his frequent practice had lapsed. The fact that he had access to Rodney’s schedule and knew his tendencies made it even easier to just, well, _not_ be where Rodney was.

He wasn’t freaking out, he told himself firmly. This wasn’t about that. He just needed some time on his own. That was normal, it was a guy thing. Guys needed private time. Okay, not private time, because that sounded like an excuse to masturbate, and there was no way John was thinking about sex any time soon. Maybe ever. 

Okay, maybe he was freaking out, but only a little. And really, who could blame him. He’d been okay with the spanking. That had really been pretty hot. And the sex was good. Great, even.

But Rodney -- Rodney had been so _different_. Not just bossy -- bossy he could deal with. He’d just seemed so... focused. And it had made John want to obey him, be a “good boy” for him, and that was just weird. John wasn’t good for anybody.

He returned his attention to polishing his clubs, resolutely putting it out of his mind. He had another forty-five minutes of Rodney’s science staff meeting before he had to figure out somewhere else to be, and these clubs weren’t going to clean themselves.

Ten minutes later, he wasn’t any closer to polishing the clubs. He just couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything. Setting it aside, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Fine. He wasn’t going to finish his (self-imposed) task today. Time for something else.

Maybe a run? He’d normally call Ronon, who was always ready to show him up, but the last two days, both Teyla and Ronon had been giving him glares of doom. He knew that there was a “talk” with Teyla in the offing, but he was going to miss that as long as possible as well. So, he’d run by himself.

He changed quickly, throwing on track pants and running shoes. After filling his water bottle, he opened the door.

And walked right into Rodney, who was standing outside.

“Shit!” John let the word escape him -- it was definitely something that was within his control. Letting it out was deliberate, and it felt good. Good enough that once he’d done it, he kept going. “Fuck, McKay, are you trying to give me a heart attack? Jesus. How long have you been standing out here? There’s this newfangled thing called knocking, you might consider trying it.”

Rodney lifted an eyebrow. “Are you done?”

“With this conversation? Yeah. Sorry to disappoint you, but I have an exercise schedule to keep to.” John tried to step around Rodney, but Rodney moved with him, blocking his escape route. “Hey!”

“Hey, yourself,” Rodney hissed. He was keeping his voice down, and John wasn’t sure how he felt about that. A loud fight would give him an excuse to avoid Rodney some more, maybe even long enough to figure out what the hell was going on inside his head. “You’re being an asshole, you know that, right?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” John said coldly, and pushed Rodney out of his way so he could stride off down the hallway.

“ _John_ ,” Rodney snapped. It was a voice that didn’t allow disobedience, and much to his dismay John found himself obeying.

_Fuck_ Rodney McKay, he thought, turning around. His hand was clenched tight around the bottle of water. He wondered what Rodney would do if the bottle was suddenly flying toward his head. “What? What do you _want_?” God, he was being such an asshole, and he knew it, but he didn’t know how to stop.

Suddenly, Rodney just looked tired. “I should have known you couldn’t handle this,” Rodney said. “This is why I don’t do this with anyone not already in the scene. I thought... well, it doesn’t matter what I thought.” Without giving John a chance to respond, Rodney turned and walked away. 

John watched him for a second, and then said, “Wait.” Rodney stopped walking but didn’t turn around, and John floundered for a second, not sure what he actually wanted to say. He didn’t want their relationship to end, which seemed to be where this was headed. He just wanted to figure out what the hell was going on.

They were going to have to talk about this, weren’t they? God _dammit_. “You want to come in? We probably shouldn’t do this in the hallway.”

Rodney straightened his shoulders before he turned around, as if he was bracing himself for bad news, and when he did turn, his face was completely blank. That was just wrong. Rodney was never blank -- his emotions were always written on his face, except not this time. This time, John couldn’t see what he was feeling at all.

The door opened, and Rodney stepped inside, with John following him. When the door slid shut, John leaned against it, resisting the urge to touch Rodney by putting his hands behind his back. They just stared at each other for several seconds until the silence became unbearable. John broke first, surprisingly. “I didn’t know it would be like that,” he said, because Rodney deserved his honesty.

“Like what?” Rodney asked, voice carefully neutral. 

“Out of control,” John said, after a moment of thought. “Hot. Scary. Overwhelming. All of the above.”

Rodney sighed and his shoulders sagged a bit. “I guess I kind of jumped the gun,” he said. “We should probably have discussed what was happening before I dumped you in the deep end.”

“You think?” John said sarcastically, before he could bite the words back. He wished he had when he saw the hurt look cross Rodney’s face. It disappeared so fast that John almost doubted that he’d actually seen it, but he trusted his instincts, usually, and right now they were screaming that Rodney was scared and hurt and trying to hide it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t -- well, I did kind of mean it,” he said, trying for scrupulous honesty. “But I should have stopped it before it went too far, and I didn’t.”

Rodney nodded, but some of the blankness left his face. John counted that as a win. “John, the whole point of what we were doing was to let you stop being in control,” he said. “Just like when you were on your knees in the bar. You weren’t in charge. All you had to do was what I told you to do. Did you like that feeling?”

God. Why couldn’t this be easy? Why couldn’t it just be what it was without all this emotion and conversation attached? It would have been so much better.

“Yeah,” he admitted finally. His stomach was in knots and he was glad he hadn’t eaten anything in the last couple of hours, because if he had he might have thrown up. “I liked it.” But he wasn’t _supposed_ to.

“It’s okay,” Rodney said. “If you did. There’s nothing wrong with that. People have different needs. It’s good to figure out what they are.”

_Not when they’re this_. No one was supposed to want this. Well, okay, maybe it was okay for some people to want it, but he wasn’t included in that group. Being in the military was one thing, it was a place where it was okay to have a superior and do what you were told (even if John hadn’t, always). But in regular life, with someone you went to bed with, it wasn’t supposed to be like that.

But it was.

Damn it.

Rodney must have been able to tell what John was thinking. “You’ve known you liked it for a long time.”

John’s throat felt swollen, like he’d tried to swallow something too big. He nodded. 

“Did you really think hiding it was the solution?”  
He shrugged. It had worked for years, with more issues than this one. Rodney was still waiting for an answer, so he offered, “Figured it was worth a shot?”

Rodney sighed. “Of course you did. You really are an idiot sometimes, you know.”

“Yeah.” But he was trying, right? That had to count for something. He was actually here doing a crummy job of talking about it, instead of running away, which still seemed more tempting.

He wasn’t surprised when Rodney gave him a long-suffering sigh. “Okay, so here’s the deal. We’re going to go back to that room, and this time we’re going to _talk_ before we do anything with what we learn, okay?”

“Do we have to?” he asked. He knew he was whining. He just didn’t care.

“Yes, we have to, since apparently the other option is you avoiding me for days. Good job at that, by the way, real mature and it fixed everything beautifully.” Okay, he was used to Rodney sounding sarcastic, but that was just flat _mean_.

He looked carefully at Rodney, seeing the things he missed the first time, like the dark circles under his eyes, the pinched look to his mouth. It added up to a thought he didn’t like. “You thought I was going to dump you over this?” he asked before he could think better of it.

“Gee, I don’t know where I could have gotten that idea,” Rodney snapped. “We have hot sex, and then you disappear for days, and won’t even talk to me. Why would I think I’d been dumped, I wonder?”

John’s stomach twisted painfully. He hadn’t thought of how Rodney was going to feel about this. He’d been so focused on not wanting to deal that he didn’t think about the results of his actions. “I’m sorry,” he said, meaning it. 

“Yeah, well, next time I’ll just remember that your default state is _dumbass_ and not take it seriously, okay?” Rodney sounded... well, he sounded pissed, to be honest, but it was a better sound for him than defeated, so John would take it. Even if he had to admit that he was a dumbass.

“Well, the holodeck isn’t getting any younger,” John said, trying to break the tension a little. He turned towards the door, but stopped when Rodney reached out and touched him on the shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Just...” Rodney leaned in and brushed his lips over John’s briefly. “Don’t do that again, John. I don’t think I can deal with it.”

John knew better than to promise that. His preferred method of dealing with conflict had been avoidance for far too long to break the habit easily. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask,” Rodney said.

He would have felt better, he thought as they walked through the city, if he didn’t feel so on display. _Everyone_ in Atlantis knew him, even the people he barely recognized, and everyone knew Rodney. Not that seeing them together would raise any eyebrows, not really. But the thought that someone might be able to look at John and _know_ , be able to see who he was underneath the surface, made his stomach clench and his hands shake. He had to shove his fists into his pockets until they were on their own.

“Breathe,” Rodney said once they had a hallway to themselves. 

“I am,” John growled.

“You’re radiating,” Rodney corrected him. “If the Ancients had developed an instrument for reading people’s emotional states -- and I’m not ruling out the possibility, given everything we’ve seen -- you’d be shorting it out right now.”

“You can tell me what to do, but you can’t tell me to like it,” John snapped, then he stopped walking and dropped his face down into his hand. “Sorry. You’re right.”

“Hey.” Rodney spoke softly and close by, so when he touched John’s shoulder John didn’t jump. “Relax, okay? We’re going to figure this out.”

John turned toward Rodney. “I’ve pretty much made an art of avoiding stuff I’m no good at. I’m no good at this. Any of it.”

“Yes, well, lucky for you, I’m brilliant.” Rodney took his hand and tugged him farther down the hallway; John had little choice but to go along with him. Maybe _no_ choice. Rodney was kind of an unstoppable force when he put his mind to it. “You should probably just stop talking and listen.”

“Listen to what?” he asked plaintively when Rodney didn’t say anything further, but Rodney just snorted and kept them moving towards his destination. John knew that he had the option to refuse, to just say no, and he wouldn’t have to go back there, where his subconscious was probably going to throw up something else that he didn’t want to admit to himself, much less Rodney. But he didn’t want this thing with Rodney to end, either, and it seemed that those were his only two choices.

Rodney didn’t say anything else as they walked back to the holodeck. John opened his mouth several times to try to say _something_ but the words seemed to get stuck in his throat. He finally just gave in to the awkward silence.

When they reached the room, Rodney didn’t hesitate. He opened the door and walked inside. John expected Rodney to tell him to activate the room, but he didn’t. Instead he closed his eyes, his forehead creased in thought.

Around them, the room changed shape, becoming what looked like a small club. Rodney’s eyes opened, and he looked to his right, which cause John to turn that direction as well. 

He saw Rodney sitting at a small table with the man from the earlier scene. At first glance, it looked like they were just having a cup of coffee and chatting, but then John noticed the pieces of paper scattered across the table and the intensity of their discussion.

His Rodney took a deep breath, and then said softly, “Come on. You need to hear this.” He didn’t wait for John’s response. He just took John’s hand and pulled him closer so that he could hear what the two men at the table were discussing.

“Okay, so I really like the idea of a single tail, but I’m a little nervous about it at the same time,” Terry was saying.

“I don’t blame you,” other Rodney said. “They can be intimidating. I don’t think we should jump right into that. You’re going to definitely need to be warmed up to get to that point.”

Terry nodded. “I _love_ spankings. And that paddle that you showed me? That looks like it would feel incredible.”

“Okay, so we’ll start with a bare hand, move to a paddle, and then see how you feel about trying the single tail? Does that sound like a plan?” other Rodney asked.

“Sounds _perfect_ ,” Terry said, and both men stood up from the table. As they started to walk away, the scene faded away, leaving just Rodney and John standing in the empty holodeck.

“I’m sorry, John,” Rodney said seriously, not meeting his eyes. “That was what we should have done. Laid out options and chosen together. But I got excited by the idea that you’d like it, and I jumped the gun. I wouldn’t blame you if you broke up with me, or decided that you wanted to stick to strictly vanilla sex from now on. But if you want... if you’re willing to try, I promise that we’ll do the actual negotiation _first_.”

John swallowed around a lump in his throat that felt as big as an orange. “I don’t want to break up with you,” he said. It came out a lot softer than he’d expected it to, but Rodney heard him. He knew because Rodney’s eyes moved to his, finally, and the little lines around them, stress lines, relaxed.

“Okay,” Rodney said. “What about the other thing?”

“The vanilla?” John shook his head. “No. I don’t want that. It wouldn’t -- it wouldn’t be enough, now. Knowing that there’s more.”

“Yeah. I get that.” Rodney closed his eyes briefly and a couch appeared. It was a love seat, but a wide one, and he gestured at it. “So maybe we could sit down? Talk?”

John made a face. “Do we have to?” It was almost a joke, and Rodney’s awesome mouth quirked a little bit before he made another, more demanding gesture.

John sat.

Rodney sat down and turned toward him. They weren’t touching, and that was probably a good thing. Even when he was freaked out, it was hard for John to touch Rodney and not want more. “Let’s talk about what we can do. That won’t be crossing any lines.”

“There are lines all over the place,” John pointed out. “It’s impossible to do anything without crossing a line.”

“Now you’re being deliberately difficult,” Rodney said. “We aren’t talking about random lines. We’re talking about our lines. Your lines, when it comes right down to it.”

John huffed out a sigh, but long exposure to Rodney made it obvious that he was going to dig in his heels and force the issue. On a good day, John _might_ be able to out-stubborn him, but there was nothing about this day that had been particularly good.

Since he knew he wanted what Rodney was willing to give, he forced himself to relax the muscles in his back and jaw, and say the first thing that came to mind. “I really liked being spanked.”

He halfway expected a smirk or some dismissive body language from Rodney at how uncertain he sounded, but Rodney just nodded as if it confirmed a suspicion. “What did you think of the crop?” he asked, and John couldn’t hear any judgment in his voice.

“It was... maybe a little intense for the first time?” John said. He wanted to say more, say how good it felt once he got into it, but... Then again, wasn’t he supposed to be telling Rodney all of this? “Once I adjusted, it was good, but it took a while to get there.”

Rodney nodded seriously. “So for now you need more in the way of warm up? Does that sound right?”

The conversation went from there, meandering through John’s wants and fantasies. There were some things that obviously excited Rodney and one or two that made him hum thoughtfully. John couldn’t bring himself to get into the more extreme things he’d fantasized about over the years, but he was starting to suspect that even those wouldn’t bother Rodney.

Finally, though, John seemed to just kind of run out of words. He looked at Rodney, waiting for him to say something, but Rodney just sat there for a moment before leaning over and giving him a soft kiss.

“Thank you, John,” he said. “Now, we have a choice -- we can fool around with some of what we’ve talked about, or we can go back to our quarters and just take it easy for a while. I know talking about this stuff isn’t easy for you, especially not for the first time.”

“Probably not the hundredth time.” The thought was exhausting. In fact, the whole discussion had been exhausting. 

He thought about his options for a moment. On the one hand, they’d spent all this time _talking_ about this -- shouldn’t they take advantage of all that effort? On the other, the thought was about as far from erotic as it was possible for a thought to be. He’d been dissecting his reactions to things for what felt like hours. He honestly thought that at this point it would be a miracle if he reacted at all.

Rodney had said repeatedly during their talk that he wanted John’s honestly. Well, fine, then. “Would you be mad if I said I’d rather just go watch a movie?” he asked.

He was a little surprised when that just got a quirked half-grin. “Can’t really blame you,” Rodney said. “I forgot how much work negotiation can be.”

They stood, and Rodney banished the room with a thought. As they headed towards the door, and their quarters, John said, “I get to pick the movie.”

“Seems fair,” Rodney said. 

As they walked John mentally flipped through their movie collection and looked for something with lots of explosions. When Rodney brushed up against him, John looked over and met Rodney’s eyes. 

They always made everything work, the two of them. They’d make this work, too.


End file.
